


Saturday morning shuffle

by TravelDustedShoes



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, My First AO3 Post, Post Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TravelDustedShoes/pseuds/TravelDustedShoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm wakes up to find that Sam isn't in his bed. A quick trip downstairs results in a lovely way to wake up on a Saturday morning</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday morning shuffle

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic here on AO3, for this fandom, and it's my first fan fic in a LONG time. I wanted to write the 'get together' story for this couple, but I'm finding that one very hard. I'm also not comfortable writing Malcolm's accent yet, so you'll just have to imagine that deliciousness. I'm not good at writing smut either - so you only get a fade out here. 
> 
> I love comments, especially con-crit, and if there are any readers who have pointers on writing good smut I'd like to hear them. 
> 
> Thank you for bearing with me

Malcolm Tucker was a man who slept alone and generally liked it that way. So when he rolled over and found that his recently acquired bed fellow was gone, he shocked himself when he woke up suddenly. 

“What the ever loving fuck...” It was like her leaving was an insult. Then he heard a slight commotion downstairs. 

“Jesus Christ what the hell is she doing?” Malcolm grumbled as he got out of bed. The room still had a bit of the morning chill, and he looked to his alarm clock which read 7:16am. “Oh for fuck’s sake - on a Saturday?”

He padded down the stairs and as he got closer to the kitchen he got closer to the source. Malcolm thought for a moment of announcing his presence, but then he thought that she deserved a bit of a shock; payback for so rudely abandoning him in bed. Cold morning shags were one of his favorite things. 

Leaning up against the frame of the kitchen he saw a sight that was fucking adorable, and Malcolm Tucker doesn’t do adorable; Sam Cassidy was dancing around his kitchen in a ratty old t-shirt, her knickers, and pair of tube socks, doing up the washing, and completely oblivious to the world thanks to her iPod. Her hair was up in a very messy pony tail and she had a headband keeping the rest of her unruly style from flying in her face. 

“...I never saw ya, I only heard of ya, huggin’ up the big monkey man” Malcolm could hear her singing along. He suspected that it was the Amy Winehouse version, judging by how deep her voice was going. Listening to her sing that low was quite odd, because it was unnatural - having recently learned that one of Sam’s hidden talents was her light, pleasant singing voice - and she was no Amy. 

It was the dancing that cracked him up. And woke him up - if you catch the drift. Still unaware that she was being watched (her back was to him), she was doing a bit of a hip-roll twist and bent down to load the dishwasher. This meant that Malcolm got a fantastic view of Sam’s full bottom - one of his favorite features - wiggling away in her ridiculous ‘Hello Kitty’ brief style knickers. He could feel the blood leaving his brain and rushing downwards. 

“...Aye yi yi, Aye yi yi, huggin’ up the big monkey man.”

He wondered if he should sneak up behind her and dance along, but it occurred to Malcolm that the shock of it might make her angry, and an angry (or peeved, or mortified) Sam meant that he’d have to relieve his present situation on his own. That would be no fun.

Add to that the fact that when it came to modern music he was a shitty dancer. He could thrash around to punk, and thanks to his mother he could waltz, foxtrot, and quickstep the night away, but bizarre pseudo-sexual gyrations were never his strength. Luckily he had Sam for that. He would always have a debt of gratitude to her ancestors for the blessed combination of a round bottom and a sense of rhythm. 

“....Now I know that, now I understand, Huggin’ up the big monkey man.”

Malcolm was spared having to announce himself. She spun around and in the shock of seeing him there she let out a yelp and stopped dead in her tracks, bringing a hand to her chest. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Malc, how long have you been there?” 

“Long enough to appreciate the view.”

“And did you enjoy what you saw?” Sam’s tone was a bit peevish. Crap.

Malcolm flashed a smile, hoping it would improve her mood. “Immensely.”

There was a bit of a pause while Sam took the earbuds out and stopped the music.

“Well,” Sam asked, “What’s up?”

“Other than my cock, not much.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Classy Malc. Real classy.” At least the tone was gone. 

He walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, you’re the one who signed up for this - classy isn’t exactly my specialty pet.” He was about to pull her into an embrace, but Sam pulled away.

“Ugh, I’m sweaty and smelly.”

And you weren’t last night?”

“Different kind of sweaty.”

“My kind of sweaty.”

“Wow. Two for two Malc. One would think you have a _pressing need_ on the mind.” Sam quipped, with a sly grin.

“Oh it’s pressing all right, pet.” Malcolm replied. “And it’s not exactly on my mind, but I am _of a mind_ to take the first beautiful woman I see to my bed.”

Sam played along, pretending to look around in confusion. “Where are you going to find such a woman? I don’t exactly see one in the vicinity.”

“Daft girl.” Malcolm muttered as he took Sam’s face in his hands and kissed her hard. As it heated up he could hear and feel the moan escape her throat. It was enough to make his body twitch, and he wanted her closer. His hands traveled down her body to her hips; his fingers curled around the generous flesh. 

“Malc...Malc...” Sam breathed into his ear.

“Mmmm, what?” he growled low, placing kisses in the hollow of her throat. He nipped and licked; her skin a sweet combination of roses (her body wash), salt (her sweat), and the smell of her (which alone was enough to turn him on). 

“Not the kitchen. It’s finally clean.”

Malcolm pulled back only to laugh. “Yeah, and if we make a fucking mess we can clean up again. Or you can do it, and I can watch, and then we can make it fucking messy again.”

“Or, we could go back to bed - which is already very messy - and just make more of a mess there.”

Malcolm grinned. It was true, the bed was a disaster, but the sounds and sights of Sam coming hard underneath him was completely worth it. 

“Aye, now there’s a fucking fantastic idea.”

“Lead the way.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice.


End file.
